Parasitism
by Hanyoukai
Summary: One-shot: A chance encounter between Jaken and a certain foul-tempered hanyou. How will Jaken manage to escape with all bodily parts intact? Or will his one-track mind end up getting him killed?


**P a r a s i t i s m**

_By: Hanyoukai_

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**Genre**: Parody   
**Rating**: PG-13   
**Setting**: Canon 

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Inuyasha. However, I do own the cows. We have lovely tea parties together, complete with bonnets and fancy pinafores. Mmm…tea. With milk. And sugar cubes. And a few shots of vodka. 

**Alternate Story Summary:** Across vast meadows, majestic mountains, and immense lakes, our hero, Jaken, the mighty (though a little rusty in cardiovascular exercise) toad youkai, searches for reprieve from Naraku's pesky, little bees. How will Jaken deal with his newfound, mind-blowing feelings for Inuyasha, and will Sesshoumaru lose his henchman for good? A love - err…lust story transcending trophic levels and food pyramids. 

**Warning(s):** Be very, very weary. 

**A.N.:** My inspiration for this intense fanfic came from orange cake and sake (lots and lots of the latter), a lethal combination to rival even the most potent crack, and all that info that was crammed into my feeble mind for my science exam. Please read and review! 

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**And so it begins...**

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It was truly an ideal summer day. 

There was nary a cloud in the blinding heavens to conceal the sun's unabashed nudity. 

And in a meadow strewn with buttercups and daisies, a tiny butterfly drifted on papery-thin wings. 

That is, until it was carried catapulting away by a not-so-gentle breeze, as a neighbouring cow expelled. 

As if that wasn't enough, its little thorax almost gave out in fright due to the most god-awful, high-pitched screech this side of Japan, of a demented banshee. 

Antennae quivering in undisguised fear, the small insect hastily flew to the haven beneath a white flower petal. 

If only that had sufficed. Yet, evidently, the butterfly held little favour in Kami's eyes, for just as it was lured into a sense of security, a webbed, puke-green foot slammed its swollen sole onto that poor bug, dousing out its short, but infinitely meaningful existence. For its silent scream of death filled the meadow with its ominous presence, darkening the sky in one palpable sweep. 

Really, it was if a horde of poisonous, killer bees had arrived to wreak their apocalyptic vengeance. 

Actually, that _was_ what had happened… 

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Jaken, our favourite toad youkai of Sengoku Jidai, ran as quickly as his short, stubby legs could carry him, toward the potential safety beyond the line of dense forestry at the edge of the cow-dotted meadow, geographically marked as the border into Inuyasha's Forest. 

This was not lost on Jaken, for a wave of indignation swept him off his aching feet at the mere thought of having to step foot into any region belonging to that…that lowly, uncouth _hanyou_, even if to escape eminent danger. 

The psychic tsunami knocked Jaken to the ground, where he landed _kersplat_, face first into a pile of fresh cow dung. 

His gasps and wheezes muffled by the offensive substance (which, oddly enough, resembled the brown colour of his robe), Jaken stood back up, his flabby (but not always having been so!) and abused muscles protesting their lack of oxygen supply with a weapon of mass destruction's worth of pinpointed pain. 

Gathering his last remaining energy to finally meet his foes face to face, as it now seemed useless to keep on fleeing for life, he braced himself with a deep breath (all the while swallowing more of the foul material lodged in his throat). 

Jaken turned around abruptly, with more than a little difficulty on his wobbly knees, to give those nasty, little insects a piece of _the_ Jaken-sama's mind (albeit a small one). He wished, nonetheless, that he were still in possession of his impressive, fire-breathing staff, which he had lost a few kilometres back, in a vain attempt to use it as a grenade to defeat those blasted bees. 

Yet before he could even utter a scathing remark, the normally fearless bees quacked in their tiny boots, their hairs standing perpendicularly on end, at witnessing the most grotesque sight of their existence: the swamp monster from hell, a.k.a. Jaken in a mud mask (only not with mud...). 

Turning as one, the poisonous wasps zoomed away, rather having to face the frightening sight of an angry Naraku than this… this… traumatizing scene that would eternally taunt their waking minds. 

Jaken, however, was not of the same mind, for he had no clue as to the mysterious disappearance of the bees. Thus, he judged it as merely a show of cowardice on their part, and an exhibition of awe-inspiring grace and might in battle stance on his part. 

"Ha!" he shouted with ill-concealed satisfaction at the fading stinging ends of the bees, and patted himself on the back. 

However, the problem of the stinking mess on his face and beak was stubbornly refusing to vanish as the wasps had done. Sighing in resignation, Jaken swallowed his pride (among other things) to trudge wearily toward the row of trees, in search of a pond or river to clean up. 

As he neared a hot spring, he mentally congratulated himself on having decided to bathe. Otherwise, Sesshoumaru-sama would never give him the proper respect (has he ever?) if he were to see him in such a state, or so Jaken thought. 

Hiding behind a bush in order to shed his robe and undergarments, Jaken even started to hum the melody of a lullaby that his mother would sing to him as a wee tadpole. 

He stepped out from behind the concealing flora with a flourish, and pranced in his birthday suit to the edge of the large spring (all the while still humming the same tune). Finally, with an awkward pirouette, Jaken plopped his way into the water. 

Oh, but the show did not end there! No, because we are, after all, talking about (or rather, I'm writing and you're reading about) the great Jaken-_sama_, lead dancer of Feudal Japan's National Ballet. 

Or at least he would be, if there had been one. 

With the ease of a synchronized swimmer, Jaken performed feat after feat of elegantly executed moves that showed daring, skill, and flexibility. That is, until his… err… private parts bumped into something in the water. 

And it was moving. 

Jaken heard a girly scream. Perhaps it had been his own. Or perhaps it belonged to that…that…swamp monster! 

Squalling (once more?) for emphasis, Jaken started to splash his way toward the grassy bank, with all of the lightning speed of a sprinter, but none of the finesse. 

Quivering in fright, he dashed out of the warm water. 

Thereafter beginning to run around frantically in circles, not unlike a chicken that had its head chopped off. 

And then he stopped. 

Because Jaken had just slammed into something firm, but soft, and rather warm and damp. 

He gulped. 

As he lifted his gaze apprehensively, Jaken caught a glimpse of a muscular thigh and a-errm…that is to say…a-a loincloth! Ahem. Yes! Precisely a loincloth. A _red_ loincloth. 

He froze. And then took another peek. 

But his eyeful was abruptly cut off by something hard crashing onto his head. 

Jaken's world went black. 

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He awoke to the sight of Tetsusaiga pressed rather precariously against his bumpy throat. 

On the other end was a furious hanyou. A furious hanyou with a sporadically twitching left eye. 

Jaken almost peed in his pants. 

Except he wasn't wearing any. 

"What the fuck were you doing, y-you-you Peeking Tom!" ground out Inuyasha, borrowing a phrase he had heard from Kagome, when she had caught Miroku spying on her during one of her nightly baths, and jammed his big fang of a sword dangerously close to Jaken's windpipe. 

Jaken almost passed out (again). 

Instead, he coughed. Hard. 

Inuyasha chuckled maliciously and pushed Tetsusaiga closer. But restrained himself accordingly when realizing the stupid toad couldn't answer him as it was. 

Jaken coughed up a lung as soon as the weapon was finally removed from his person. 

"Did Sesshoumaru put you up to this, you ugly, little parasite?" Inuyasha tried again, this time refraining from using any obscenely course words, though not any less rudely. 

_Ugly! Parasite!_

Jaken turned red. He turned purple. And so on and so forth until he had lit up in every colour imaginable of a Christmas light. 

Then his brain artery ruptured. 

"I'll have you know, I'm an _amphibian_, thank-you-very-much!" he screeched, wincing at how squeaky and shrill his voice had come out. 

Jaken huffed in self-righteous indignation. He puffed in enraged affront. 

And Inuyasha's skimpy loincloth fluttered wildly in the resulting breeze. 

Inuyasha was _not_ amused. 

"Answer the fucking question," he bit out, menacingly brandishing forth Tetsusaiga. 

"Err…well you see…that is to say… umm… _konnichi wa_?" Jaken finally replied. Eloquently, you can be sure. 

Inuyasha was tired of holding back. Patience, after all, was for weak-willed men who were basically begging for their heads to be severed. 

In one quick sweep, he prepared to demolish Jaken. So he could castrate him. And roast his liver and feed it to Shippo. 

Yes. It was a good decision all around. 

Except Inuyasha (smart bastard that he was) forgot one thing. 

Tetsusaiga was too heavy for him to lift. 

And as all plans have a penchant for going awry at the last second, so did this hanyou's. 

Struggling under the weight of not one fang, but rather two (see episode 44, _Kaijinbo's Evil Sword_), Inuyasha lost his footing, tripped over a boulder (which, oddly enough, hadn't been there before), and he fell with a _thud_. A very LOUD _thud_. 

Jaken was not one to so easily give up a merciful gift of life. 

He hightailed it out of the forest before you could even say "Tetsusaiga", grabbing his shed clothes as he ran, not looking back until he was once again, back amongst the companionably silent cows. 

Breathing raggedly, Jaken... well, he breathed raggedly. 

He sat down with legs spread indecently apart (but his clothes back on, thank goodness!), and began to make a necklace with the daisies, buttercups, and any other thing he happened to dig up from the ground. 

Yet the freaking thing kept on falling apart. 

But Jaken was nothing if not persistent. And invincible. 

After all, who else could boast escaping unscathed from the pointed tip of the late Lord of the Western Lands' fang? 

Unscathed. Hmm… 

If that meant traumatized beyond belief, then yes. 

Because Jaken distinctly remembered something he had caught a glance of before his improvised faint. 

Something of a size he wished to Kami he himself had been endowed. 

Jaken gasped. And choked. And choked again. 

As the dry heaving subsided, Jaken cast a withering glare at the cow that was serenely chewing on some grass beside him, as if _she_ had been responsible for his not-so-innocent thoughts. 

_Humph. Stupid hanyou_, he thought to himself. _Stupid, weak hanyou, with a skinny, little ass that Sesshoumaru always managed to kick._

Except Inuyasha's thighs hadn't seemed so "weak" back there. Rather, they were quite…sinewy. And firm. And very, very toned. And did he mention firm? 

Jaken's brain turned to mush. 

He moaned. It was a very rusty moan. Because he _never_ moaned, unless it was in pain. 

Then the moan turned into a squawk of outrage. 

_How_ dare _that-that crude, no-good_ bastard, _yes_ bastard (because he really was one), _try to make this Jaken even think to regard him as anything but the piece of trash he is?_ Jaken thought viciously. He didn't even have a chest worth noting. It was puny. And narrow. And not at all tanned and well sculpted like Sesshoumaru's. 

Yes, Sesshoumaru. It was much better to wax poetry over Sesshoumaru's (plentiful) endowments, who was, after all, more of a man… err… youkai than Inuyasha would ever become, even _with_ the Shikon no tama. 

Besides, his package was much more noteworthy. Outstanding, really. 

Not that Jaken bothered to look or anything. 

Indeed. 

Jaken bounded to his webbed feet. It was time to make his way back to the Western Lands. To Sesshoumaru. Whose foot he often had conversations with as it was often plastered to his face and beak. 

He ceremoniously placed the wreath of weeds on the neck of a nearby cow, and patted its head in farewell. 

The cow stared back at him stoically. 

Jaken took that as a tearful adieu, and as he was feeling rather tearful himself, he promptly adjusted his cone-shaped hat, and marched westward. 

He was finally going home. 

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**THE END…or is it?**

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Thanks for reading! Please Review! 


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